Bye Bye Blackbird
by lottielovebuzz
Summary: Isabelle Moran, an upper class lady, married to a officer in the Navy loved her life, and loved her husband. She loved being spoiled and was worth everything to her parents and husband alike. So, when Captain Jack Sparrow, who was in need of money, kidnapped her for ransom, she doesn't take the change from her cosy mansion to a ship all to kindly. JS/OC.
1. Chapter I

**_Okay, so it's a day later than I anticipated, but I went Christmas shopping yesterday (well, I say Christmas shopping, I bought one Christmas present, and then bought myself Slash's autobiography, Light & Shade: Conversations with Jimmy Page and a pair of Converses... anyhoo..) But I'm publishing it now. _  
**

**_This is a Jack/OC story, so if you do not like that, hit the back button. And Jack will not be in this story 'til a few chapters in... this is mainly just a background chapter to my OC, Isabelle. Hope you like it!_**

**_This will change to "M" in later chapters. :) _**

**_Disclaimer for the whole story (mainly because I can't be bothered writing it every chapter... I'm lazy, what can I say?) - I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. But I do own my OC, Isabelle._**

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_~When I look into your eyes,  
I can see a love restrained.  
But darling when I hold you,  
Don't you know I feel the same?~  
_

_Guns N' Roses - November Rain._

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**Bye Bye Blackbird.**

**Chapter I.**

The room was decorated in such a way that it was classic.

Sophisticated.

There was an elegant chaise-lounge against the wall, a large table in the centre of the room, a classic ornament cupboard in the corner, housing Chinese porcelain that had been in the family for generations. They would frequently tell the story of how their great-great-great-grandfather John went to China, and was given this by the Emperor himself.

Of course, this story was completely false, but they were incredibly proud of it nonetheless.

Atop of one of the fine bureau was a vase full of white lilies.

The woman who owned the house, came strolling into this room, looking over at the vase with a frown.

Something was incredibly off about it.

She approached them slowly, and as she was standing in front of them she realised what; the stem of one of the lily was bent.

With a tut, she removed the broken flower, telling the servant trailing behind her to get rid of it.

'Yes, Mrs Moran.' The servant replied, taking the flower into her hand, deciding to keep it in her room instead. If she was honest, there was nothing wrong with it.

'Now, Ariana, the Ball is tomorrow, we will be going into town tomorrow to pick everything up.' Mrs Moran declared, turning the vase just a _tiny _bit to the right so it was perfectly in centre. 'I want to make sure the food is good, then pick it up. We will then go to the orchestra, to sample their music; I don't want nothing... shoddy. Then, we'll pick up my dress for the night, understand?'

'Yes, Mrs Moran.'

'Good.' She nodded. 'You may return to your chambers.'

'Thank you, Mrs Moran.' She bowed her head, then turned and left the woman by herself in the room.

Mrs Moran, or Isabelle as she was known to her family and friends, was perfectly content with her life. She had a husband, Matthew Moran, who loved her very much.

She also had her parents, Elizabeth and Daniel Gray, who were both very much alive and very devoted to their only child.

She was also wealthy. She was born into wealth, and married into even more. And if they kept going this way, she would die with wealth.

She tucked as stray lock of her black, curly hair behind her ear, but it immediately fell out again. That was the only downside of having short hair, it was hell to try and keep it in its place.

Her brown eyes impatiently scanned the room, making sure everything was in its place.

Which it was.

After giving the room the all clear, she picked her dress up, so she wouldn't trample on it as she walked, and moved from the living-room to her husband's study.

She knocked twice.

'Matthew?' She questioned as she opened the door, and found her husband in his seat, looking over a piece of parchment. 'Is everything all right?'

He looked up as soon as she entered, seemingly thankful for the interruption.

He lay his piece of parchment down, as well as his quill. His hands then rubbed his eyes, showing just how tired he was.

'Everything is fine, Isabelle.'

She stopped short, and placed both hands on her hips. 'I don't believe you.'

He released his head from his hands and smirked at her.

'I can't get anything past you, can I?'

She smiled back at him, as she let her hands drop from her hips. She walked over to him, leaning against the desk.

'I am your wife, of course you can't.'

She reached out with her hand, and ran her fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

'Tell me Matthew.' She tried again, as she let her hand drop back onto her lap.

He sighed heavily.

'It's nothing serious, it's just a huge leap from being commodore, to being rear-admiral. I think after the first few weeks I'll be fine, it's just… right now, it's hard.'

She moved from her place resting against the desk, and walked to stand behind him. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and slowly began to massage them.

'Do not worry, you'll get there. These things take time.' She soothed, before she leaned down and kissed his hair.

'I love you.' She informed him, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and leaned her head down next to his.

'I love you, too, Isabelle.'

He turned his head, and gave her a soft kiss on her lips. Before she could begin to enjoy it, however, he pulled back and cleared his throat.

'I really need to get on with this, though.'

She let out a small sigh that he didn't notice, before she straightened and dusted her burgundy dress down.

'Of course.' She replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice, even though she hadn't intended to.

He didn't notice however, and just picked up his quill again and dipped it in his ink, starting to write again.

She walked back around the table, heading for the door and left him on his own, but not before she looked at him, with pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

'Ariana,' She started, looking up from the book she had in her hands, and over to the young woman who was currently dusting the large bookshelf.

'Yes, ma'am?' Ariana answered, stopping her chores to turn to her employer, though they were more like friends; the young servant was Isabelle's confidant, she could tell her anything that was worrying her.

'How long have you been with us?'

'Almost five years, Mrs. Moran.'

'Five years?' Isabelle repeated, gnawing on her lips for a second as she considered this.

'Yes, ma'am. I came here when I was 15 years.'

'So, that would make you 20, right now?' She asked, placing a small piece of parchment into her book to keep her place, before she closed it over.

Ariana nodded her head once, not exactly wishing to admit that aloud; it was improper for any woman to reveal her age, no matter if you were upper-class, or lower-class.

'Why haven't you married by now?' Isabelle asked, as she tapped the chair next to her, inviting Ariana over to sit next to her.

Ariana hesitantly made her way over to her, and sat down on the red velvet chaise-lounge.

'My father cannot afford the dowry, I am afraid.' She replied, looking down at her hands, that were folded neatly in her lap. 'Not that it matters, there has been no interest anyway.'

'But why not? You are a pretty thing.' Isabelle informed, smiling warmly at her. There wasn't that much of an age gap between them, but the class difference made it seem like the gap was huge.

'I do not know, ma'am. But I am fine the way I am; I want to marry for love, not out of propriety.'

'Don't we all,' Isabelle whispered, and Ariana turned to look at her, curiosity written all over her face.

'What do you mean, ma'am?'

Isabelle whipped her head to look at her, her eyes wide with shock as she realised she had said that out loud.

She waved her hand to dismiss it.

'Nothing, my dear, nothing.' She stood from the seat, wiping down her dress.

She picked up the book and placed it back on the bookshelf, before she turned back to Ariana, 'After you've finished this room, you may have the rest of the day off.'

'But ma'am, I still have-'

'I do not want to hear it,' Isabelle interrupted, raising her hand to stop her protest. 'The other maids can do it. You have the rest of the day off.'

Ariana stood, and bowed her head. 'Thank you ma'am.'

She walked over to start working again, and Isabelle started to leave.

However, she stopped and turned back to Ariana.

'Oh, and Ariana, when you meet your Prince Charming, I don't want you to let him go… so, if your father still cannot afford the dowry, come to me. I'll give you the money for it.'

She didn't wait for Ariana's reply, before she strode from the room, a smile on her lips and her head held high. Missing the small smile of Ariana's lip, and the small tear of happiness that rolled down her cheek.

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**_So, there is chapter one, done and dusted. Let me know what you think in a review! What do you think of Isabelle? And Ariana? __Don't worry, Jack'll appear soon! :D_**

**_Don't forget to like my Facebook page, for updates, sneak peeks, face characters and gorgeous covers! The link is on my profile! It's great fun, so it is! :D_**

**_~Charlotte.x_**


	2. Chapter II

**_Thank you to the great feedback I got from the first chapter! It means so much to me! So, I'm bringing you chapter 2. I hope you all enjoy it!_  
**

**_Thank you to everyone that reviewed/alerted/added to favourite/or just read it. And to the anonymous reviewer "bleh" don't worry! The chapters will get longer after Chapter 3... it's just there is no action happening in these chapters, and their just to create background. So, I promise the chapters will be MUCH longer come Chapter 4! :D_**

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_~Do you remember when time was all we had?  
Never count the hours,  
Didn't count the days.  
Never stopped to wonder,  
What time would bring.~  
_

_Izzy Stradlin - Time Gone By._

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**Chapter II.**

'Ariana? Ariana, are you ready to go?' Isabelle asked, as she descended the stairs, and found her favourite maid standing in the landing, waiting with her coat.

'Yes, ma'am.' Ariana answered, as she handed her the coat and helped her slip it on.

'Okay… what shall we do first? The food, the flowers or the music? I want to pick up my dress last.'

'Whatever you want, ma'am.' Ariana replied, following a step behind her as they started to leave the house.

'I think we'll do the flowers first, then the food, then the music. We'll pick up my dress, and then return home.' Isabelle decided with a nod, and Ariana simply gave her a smile in response.

They entered the carriage, and Isabelle told the driver where to go.

They travelled in silence, until Ariana felt she could no longer hold back. She just hoped it wouldn't get her into trouble.

'Ma'am?' She started, looking down at her hands that were folded in her lap.

Isabelle turned to her, raising her eyebrows and replying, 'Yes, Ariana?'

'May I just say thank you for what you offered to do? Yesterday when we were in the library? That really meant a lot to me. As well as my father; he said it lifted a huge weight off his shoulders.'

She finally looked up as she finished talking, and met Isabelle's warm, brown eyes.

'You're welcome, Ariana,' she answered with a smile, and then added much more quietly, 'You're the only real friend I have.'

She turned her head, and looked out of the window, signalling that she didn't want Ariana to respond, so she didn't, but she couldn't help but be curious over what she had just said.

As well as what she said yesterday.

First she said that she wished she had married for love, and secondly she said she was the only friend she had.

Ariana had no idea her mistress' life was so… empty.

Apparently she had always covered it up with a smile.

She didn't have long to think on it, however, for the coach stopped and she soon had to get out of the carriage with Isabelle.

Isabelle thanked Ariana as she opened her door for her, and exited the carriage.

She started towards the flower shop, and pulled off her gloves as soon as she entered.

'Mrs Moran! I am pleased to see you!' The owner greeted, moving from behind the counter with a wide smile.

'Mr Brown,' Isabelle replied, giving him a small smile and nod. 'I'm here to see the flowers you have arranged for tonight.'

'Ah, right this way Mrs Moran.' He said, leading her towards the back room, when he saw Ariana going to follow them, he stopped, 'You may wait here.'

'No, no, no, Ariana is to come with me.' Mrs Moran replied immediately, waving with her hand to Ariana, who had stopped short.

She hesitantly made her way over to Isabelle, who smiled down at her.

'Please do not tell my maid what to do.' She smiled, though she felt like cringing at the use of the word "maid".

Mr Brown's eyes widened, but he quickly recovered. 'Of course, Mrs Moran, right this way.'

They made their way to the back room, where it was full of bouquets, all of them nearly identical to each other. White roses with green plants added here and there.

'They're perfect.' She sighed, as she reached out and gently traced the petal of one rose.

She brought her hand back, and slipped her gloves back on.

'Bring them to the house tonight, the ball starts at five, I wish for the hall to be ready for four.'

'Of course, Mrs Moran.' Mr Brown nodded, before turning to return to his work.

'Now, to the food!' Isabelle smiled, before turning on her heel and leaving the flower shop. Ariana followed after her with a small smile on her lips.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

They had just exited the theatre.

They had been to test the food and it was up to excellent standard. The chef was in the process of making it as she entered, but had made a special dish earlier for Isabelle to taste.

Her closest friends and family would attend a dinner, and then the rest of the town would be invited for the dance. For that reason, she wanted the main food to be the best she could get.

The main thing on the list for the ball was the champagne, but Isabelle had her own store at home.

Then there was the music for the ball; she had went to the theatre she had so often attended, and asked their orchestra to play for it.

They had happily agreed.

'That was the most beautiful piece I have ever heard, ma'am.' Ariana whispered, the music they had just played rendering her near-speechless.

'I know,' Isabelle replied, in equal amount of awe. 'And trust me, it just gets better every time you hear them.'

She stepped inside the carriage again, and they headed off to collect her dress.

'Now to the most exciting thing on the list.' Isabelle gushed, finding it hard to keep her excitement in.

'When did you order it, ma'am?' Ariana asked, feeling slightly envious of her.

She didn't want to, but she had worn her older sister's hand-me-down dresses for years. She had never owned a _new _dress, and was that little bit jealous of anyone that could just go and buy one on a whim.

She had always wanted a dress that no one else had worn before.

'When I got news my husband was going to be promoted to rear admiral. I knew we'd have a party, and knew I'd have to have a new one.'

Ariana let out a small "ah" before falling silent, turning her head and looking out of the window.

Isabelle regarded her, biting her lip as she tried to think of something to say.

She had just opened her mouth to say something, when she realised it would be better to remain silent, so, she closed her mouth and turned to look out of the window, too.

They remained like that until the carriage stopped for the fourth time that day.

They both exited the carriage and walked into the seamstress' shop, Isabelle finding it hard to reel her excitement in.

'Mrs Moran! I am 'appy to see you!' Mrs Holmes exclaimed, her French accent hard to miss.

'Mrs Holmes, is it ready?'

'I've only just finished eet. You should see it.'

'I am eager to!' She replied, clapping her hands together as she watched the grey-haired woman wheel a mannequin closer to her.

Isabelle's breath caught in her throat, as she looked at her dress.

It was made from an elegant navy silk, that had a beautiful floral pattern on it. The collar was like a sailors and the blue silk sleeves stopped mid-arm, only to be continued with a cream chiffon.

'It's gorgeous.' Isabelle breathed, and Ariana nodded in agreement.

Isabelle reached out slowly with her hands, and gently stroked the fabric of the dress.

'Mrs Holmes you've outdone yourself this time.' She smiled, before she turned back to the dress. 'I can't wait to wear it tonight.'

She turned to Ariana, who put all feelings of jealousy aside and smiled at her.

'You'll be beautiful, ma'am.' She informed. 'The main attraction.'

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**_Okay, as I said above, the first three chapters are like filler chapters. Kinda important 'cause it gives background, but they aren't exciting/long because they're just that. I don't want to drone on about things that won't mean much in later chapters! _**

**_Now, if you liked it! Drop a review! Your feedback inspires me to write! And don't forget to like my Facebook page! The link is on my profile! :D_**

**_~Charlotte.x_**


	3. Chapter III

**_Here is the last chapter of the shorter ones. This is where the story really begins. :) _  
**

**_Thank you so much for every one who has reviewed this so far, or even added to their favourite or story alert._**

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_~I swear you told me,  
That you'd be my life support,  
Guess I misunderstood,  
You were my deadlihood.~_

_Sixx: A.M. - Deadlihood._

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**Chapter III.**

The violin solo filled the room. The only noise that could rival it was that of the chatter amongst the people in the room.

There were groups of three or four scattered around the room; often couples from one group moved to join another. This was a never ending cycle.

There was one couple, who made sure to float from group to group, and to never stay with one for too long. Both the man and woman wore matching masks, that were white and went up to their eyebrows and came down to the point of their noses, covering them completely.

'Are you enjoying yourself, Matthew?' Isabelle asked, as she turned her head to look her husband in the eye.

She stood out from the rest of the room with her dress. Most of the women turned up wearing soft pastels, whereas Isabelle's dress was a deep navy blue.

'I am, my love, you've outdone yourself this time.' He smiled, and he leaned forward, almost looking like he was going to kiss her.

However, just before she went to lean up to him, he pulled back and smiled at her, tucking a stray strand of black hair behind her ear; it had obviously fallen out of her bun.

Isabelle bit her lip, and turned away from him, trying to hide her disappointment. She knew that public affection wasn't proper, but she couldn't help it. What was a little peck on the lips? It was nothing in her eyes! And she was sure most of the people in this room had too much champagne, and wouldn't remember that they had done so.

'Who should we talk to next?' Matthew asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

'I'm not bothered.' She answered, looking around the room for people that she hadn't spoken to that much. It was then she noticed that her husband's friends and colleagues were gathered in the corner of the room.

Deciding that she wouldn't mind some time alone, she pointed it out to Matthew, 'Your friends are over there. Do you wish to go and catch up with them?'

'Are you sure you'll be fine by yourself?'

She bit the inside of her mouth, trying to stop the remark she had planned from bursting through.

'Of course I will.' She replied, instead of the "I always am" that she had wanted to say.

He picked up her hand and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles, before he turned and rushed away to where his friends stood.

Sighing, she turned and headed through the crowd, smiling at the people that she recognised through their masks. She stopped once or twice, and talked to several people, but eventually she made her way to the buffet table where she saw Ariana was standing.

'You should try talking to the men that are here.' She whispered in her ear, causing Ariana to jump from the unexpected noise.

'My lady, I did not hear you approach.' Ariana replied with a smile, as she picked up the plate of food that she had dropped when she jumped.

'I still say you should be talking to the men that are here.' Isabelle repeated with a smile as she saw Ariana blush.

'I am a mere maid, my lady, these gentlemen would not dare look me in the eye.' Ariana explained, bowing her head before turning back to the table, picking up another plate and holding it in her hands.

'Well then, those type of men aren't worth the trouble anyway.'

Ariana blinked at her, before biting her lip and smiling slightly at her.

'Ma'am, not all people are as kind as you. Please remember that.' Ariana warned, before she took off, heading into the crowd, serving the food out amongst the guests of the ball.

Isabelle watched her go with a frown on her face. There were times when she was thankful she came from a well off family, and married into another upper class family, but she couldn't help but feel sorry for Ariana every time she spoke to her. No one could know that they were best friends. They couldn't do the things that Isabelle did with her other friends. Ariana would always be her "servant", and she hated it when her "friends" came around to her house for tea, and they started ordering her around.

She couldn't stand it.

And she couldn't help but feel she shouldn't have to.

The only way they could be seen as equals would be if either Ariana married an upper class man, and Isabelle knew that would never happen, as Ariana herself said, they would barely look her in the eye.

The only other way would be if they ran away to an island that did not distinguish between classes. And that was just as unlikely as the first option.

'Mrs Moran?' A voice called, pulling her from her thoughts.

She turned her head and found herself face to face with a man in a full face mask. She had no idea who the man under the mask was, and wasn't about to make a fool of herself by asking.

'How lovely to see you!' She faked, pulling her lips into a wide smile, trying to hide the fact she had no clue who she was talking to.

He handed her a glass of champagne, and she accepted it, 'Thank you, sir.'

She raised the glass to her lips, and took a sip from the golden liquid.

'It's such a lovely house you've got here.' He waved his hand around the ball room, and Isabelle found her smile becoming more genuine.

'Thank you, sir. We had trouble picking between this one, and another one that was a little bit bigger, but we decided on this one, mainly because of the land that came with it. It's an excellent place for me to ride my horses.' She explained, a smile on her face, and as she turned away to look around herself, she missed the man sticking out his tongue behind her.

However, when she turned back, he smiled at her again.

She was just about to open her mouth to ask a question, when a maid cut her off.

'My lady, we are out of champagne.'

Isabelle turned to her, and realised it was just a new girl she had hired for the ball today. Of course, she would be kept on after it because one of her old staff was retiring in a weeks time.

She was not keen on letting her new staff know where she kept her alcohol, though.

It wasn't that she was a snob and didn't trust them… it was just, it had happened before. She had hired one girl and had given her the full tour of the house to let her know where everything was, and one day, she caught her looting from the cellar where she kept the various alcohol that she owned.

'Very well, wait here and I will get it.' She answered with a smile, before she turned back to excuse herself from the man she had been talking to. Yet, when she turned back, he wasn't there.

'That's odd.' She whispered, before she looked down at the glass in her hand, and realised she still had some left.

Before she set off for some more champagne bottles, she quickly raised the glass to her lips and finished the drink that was inside it.

She headed out of the ballroom, going straight for the cellar.

As soon as she saw the stairs that would take her down to the cellar, her vision started to blur. She stopped in her tracks, and raised her hand to her head, which was now throbbing painfully.

She opened her eyes again, trying to focus her sight, yet she couldn't. Everything was blurring. Colours merging together to form one shade of grey; the side of her vision was starting to turn black and her stomach started to feel like it was full of weights. She placed her hand over her stomach, and tried to think _how _she ended up feeling like this. Her hands were shaking and she was starting to sweat as if the room suddenly caught fire. She gasped for air and gave a light cough. Her head started to feel heavier, and she took a hesitant step forward.

Then, as soon as the weight was placed on her front foot, it gave way and she collapsed to the ground, her eyes falling shut and the last thing she saw was a pair of brown boots before everything went black.

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**_Ooh, what do you think about that? Tell me in a review!_**

**__****_And if you haven't noticed, all of the chapters have a song quote at the beginning. I'm doing this with all the chapter from now on. I've done it with the previous ones as well. They are just giving some depth to the chapter. You could even give the song a listen as you read it - that's why I've listed the artist and the song. :D_**

**_~Charlotte.x_**


	4. Chapter IV

_**Hey! I have Chapter 4 for you all! Our beloved captain makes his "true" appearance in this chapter! ;)**_

_**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this chapter! It makes my day! :D Hope you like this chapter!**_

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_~Well, this ain't no sideshow,  
This is the great unknown,  
This is the poison we take.~_

_Sixx: A.M. - Lies of the Beautiful People._

* * *

**Chapter IV.**

Isabelle slowly started to come around. Her head was throbbing; her stomach dancing. Her eyes were heavy, _so _heavy, but she knew she had to open them. With a groan, she slowly opened her eyes, only to shut them again when the sight she saw was too bright for her, and only made her head hurt more.

Giving another groan, she forced herself to open her eyes again; and keep them open this time. She would've loved to have lay where she was, but she knew she couldn't. She needed to figure out _how _she ended up like this. Why was she lying on the floor? What the hell happened to her? The last thing she remembered was falling over when she went to get some champagne… the last thing she saw was a brown pair of boots.

Who's boots were they? Matthew didn't own brown boots like that. He only ever wore polished black ones.

She slowly moved her hands and started to push herself up to a sitting position. When her arms were completely straight, but still supporting her weight, she turned her head and looked around herself.

Her eyes widened at what she saw. She was behind bars. She was in a prison cell.

But that wasn't the worst part. It was what she saw behind the bars. Wood. The walls were wooden, and they were wet. There were barrels randomly placed around the place, and there were two more cells beside her, but they were completely empty. There were small, round windows in the wooden walls, and her eyes widened even further with realisation at where she was.

She was on a ship.

And from the gentle rise and fall she was feeling beneath her, she knew it was moving.

She placed a hand over her stomach, as the rise and fall finally got to her. She was never good on ships. Her head started to feel light again, but she didn't know if it was from the oncoming seasickness or the drug that had obviously been used on her.

She groaned and closed her eyes again, before she let her arms cave in and fell back against the floor of the brig. She rolled on to her back before she opened her eyes again, and looked at the wood that was above her. Her eyes slowly began to water as she realised the predicament she was in.

'What am I going to do?' She whispered to herself, as she lifted a hand and placed it over her face. She couldn't do this. She couldn't deal with this.

'What the hell am I doing here?' She questioned, removing the hand from across her face and sitting up.

Suddenly, she was no longer frightful. The swaying of the ship was the last thing on her mind. She wanted to know _who _had the audacity to kidnap her. Who thought they could get away with this? She had a husband who was just promoted to Rear-Admiral of the Navy, and he couldn't live without her… well, she thought he couldn't… but maybe he could. Maybe he didn't care.

'Oh, be quiet, Isabelle. He does love you!' She hissed at herself, as she ran a hand over her face again.

She reached up and touched her hair, and found that it was still in the bun that she wore last night. At least she thought it was last night… how long had she been out for? Just how long had she been missing?

She turned her head to look around herself again, and found a man looking at her. She gasped and recoiled in fright at the surprise, a hand flying to her heart. Her breath caught in her throat, as she stared at him with wide, frightful eyes.

'Ah, you're awake.' He spoke, and Isabelle swallowed hard at his words. 'I'll go and tell the captain, he's been waiting for you to wake up… he'll probably want to see you soon.'

He gave a chuckle before he turned on his heel and left the brig to inform his captain that their prisoner had woken up.

Isabelle watched him leave, before she moved the hand from across her heart and exhaled slowly and deeply.

They had been waiting for her to wake up? For the second time since she woke up, she found herself wondering just _what _they had used to drug her. And again, she found no answer… how the hell was she supposed to know that stuff? She didn't know anything about drugs.

Once again, her mind fell upon the mastermind behind the whole thing. And once again, she couldn't believe that someone had the _nerve_ to do this to her! She knew what they were; pirates. No one else who went to sea would kidnap someone.

Her nostrils flared as she breathed in deeply. She was going to see the man who was behind this. And she would make sure that she would give him a piece of her mind! Who was _he _to do this? To take her upon this godforsaken ship and lock her in the brig, _after_ drugging her to knock her out!

When she heard footsteps, she looked up and saw the man from earlier coming over to her with keys in his hand. She stood up and dusted down her dress, before she held her head high.

With a loud squeak, the door to the prison swung open, and the man entered. He grabbed ahold of her arm, and she squealed.

'What are you doing? I can walk!' She stated, as he started to drag her out of the brig and up the stairs.

'You get your hands off me this instant!' She screeched, hoping that he would listen to her this time. But of course, he did not. She reached up and placed her hand on top of his, trying to pull it from her person. Her fingernails dug into his skin, and she scratched as hard as she could. He hissed in pain, but did not let her go.

'Let go!' She demanded, but he didn't relent, he just kept tugging her. This was all she needed. She was no longer frightened.

No.

She was furious.

She would give this "captain" a piece of her mind when she got near him. Kidnapping her? Oh, he would live to rue this day. No one was going to get away with this. He was going to be punished for this, and if not by her, then by her husband when her caught up with them.

She was placed in front of a man, who had tanned copper skin; though that could've just been dirt. He had more jewellery than a high-class whore, with a ring on every finger, and beads throughout his dreadlocked hair. His clothes were crinkled and dirty as well.

This was the man who kidnapped her? Why, he looked like he couldn't harm a fly.

'Yes.' She stated shortly, raising her eyebrow at the man. 'I would like to see your captain.'

The crew sniggered, but this flamboyant man barked at them to stop. He turned back to her with a fake smile plastered on his face.

'I _am_ the captain, love.'

She rolled her eyes, before she spoke, 'Okay, first of all, I am not your "love", so do not call me that. Secondly, you may be the captain, but I would like to see the man who is the brain behind this whole ruse to kidnap me.'

'Look, love -'

He was cut off as Isabelle reached up and slapped him across the face. His head flew to the side and the crew sniggered again. Isabelle lowered her hand as she glared at the man in front of her.

'Mrs Moran, to you. Not "love", like I said before. Do you not listen?'

'Mrs Moran.' He started, his teeth clenched tight together. 'I _am _the captain, and I _am _the brains behind this plan.'

She stared at him for a few more seconds, unable to comprehend that. He looked so… idiotic. The way he was dressed, the way he stood, the way he talked… how did he have the brains to do this? To execute it?

She looked up, wanting to asking him that, when her eyes connected with his. They were brown, and she was certain she had seen them before. She just didn't know where. But she _knew _she had looked into those chocolate brown eyes before.

_Don't be stupid, Isabelle. He's a pirate._ Her mind hissed at her, and she shook her head once before lowering her eyes away from his. Her eyes landed on his boots… his brown boots.

Her eyes widened before the shot back up to his again, and it all clicked. She knew where she had seen those eyes before. He was at the ball. He was the man that complemented her house; that gave her the champagne.

_The champagne!_

'You!' She gasped, her voice barely above a whisper as she watched his smirk grow. She had finally recognised him. Sure, he had worn a mask but he knew that she would remember him… everyone always did. 'The man at the ball! The one with that bloody mask! You gave me the champagne and it was drugged! How dare you?'

He did not reply, and just continued to grin at her; driving her mad. She reached her hand up, going to slap him again, when he caught her wrist in his hand. He pulled her flush against his body, and reached up to brush a stray lock behind her ear. She struggled against his hold, kicking her legs wildly, and waving her free arm around.

'Let me go this instant!' She screeched, but she was silenced when he bent her arm around her back painfully, and placed his free hand over her mouth.

She froze and stared at him with wide eyes. He removed the hand that was across her mouth, testing to see if she would start up again, but she remained silent.

Well, not entirely silent, for she asked, 'What do you want from me?'

'Money. Your dear old husband seems to do anything for you… so, I assumed he would be willing to pay anything to get you back.'

She remained silent as he explained this to her, not wanting to voice her views that he may be wrong; she didn't know what he'd do if he thought for a second that he would not get his beloved money.

'Well, that much is clear.' She answered, unable to stop herself. 'You would've been better off holding a gun to my head at the ball. It would've been much quicker.'

'But would've landed me in prison before I could've got away.'

'Are you really that incompetent that you wouldn't have gotten away? You needed to drug me before you could do anything? That _screams_ coward.' She hissed, and she saw him ground his teeth together.

'I am no coward.'

'With all the evidence I have seen, I disagree.' Isabelle retorted, no longer frightened anymore. If she was going to die eventually - and she was sure she was, she never got on well with ships - she was going to make sure that she took this lowlife down a peg or two.

Well, that was the plan. That's what she hoped. She had no idea if she would achieve it or not, but she was going to try.

'Okay, I've had enough of this. Take her back to the brig.' Jack dismissed, releasing her with a small push. He waved his hand as his crew before walking away to the helm again.

Two hands grabbed the top of Isabelle's arms, and she jumped as she wasn't expecting it. She allowed them to walk her back to the brig and silently walked inside when they opened the door for her.

When they shut the door behind her, and went to walk away, she spoke up again.

'Pass a message on to your captain for me.' She started, as she turned back to face the men that led her here. The looked at her with raised eyebrows, but sincerely looked like they would pass on anything she said to them. 'His life is going to be a misery now. As God as my witness, he will realise that he picked the wrong woman to kidnap.'

She turned on her heel and faced the wall again, before she sat down and leaned against the bars.

She exhaled deeply, closed her eyes for a second, before she opened them and watched the blue sky turn black.

* * *

_**Don't forget to review and let me know what you think! **_

_**And if you haven't already, like my Facebook page, the link is on my profile page!**_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	5. Chapter V

_**Chapter 5 is here for you all, and I hope you enjoy it!**  
_

_**Thank you again for everyone who reads and reviews **_**_this! It means so much to me! _**

* * *

_~If only I had an enemy,  
Bigger than my apathy,  
I could've won.~_

_Mumford and Sons - I Gave You All._

* * *

**Chapter V.**

She had fallen asleep. Despite the fact she thought she never would, she managed to get to sleep. Even with the rise and fall of the ship, and the noise of the water slapping up against the hull of the ship; the shouts from the crew that was running above her; the constant check ups that she had, just to make sure she wasn't trying to escape.

_Escape._

Where the hell would she go? She was in the middle of the ocean, what was the point of checking up to see if she had escaped?!

She had been awake for some time. She had no idea how long, seeing as this stupid ship had no clock to tell her. Though, she had seen the sky turn from pink to blue, so she assumed she was up for an hour at _least_.

Her stomach growled, and she crossed her arms across her stomach, hugging herself for several different reasons. To soothe her stomach, that was throbbing and groaning due to a lack of food, and to warm herself up. Another would be to give herself some comfort, but she didn't really want to admit that. She had plans to be as brave and cheeky as possible; trying to comfort herself wouldn't go well with those plans.

She groaned again when it lurched, and she held herself tighter.

However, she was distracted from her stomach's noises when she heard footsteps on the stairs that led down to the brig. She stood up from her sitting position, and moved over to the bars, hoping it was someone to give her some news. Tell her she was getting out for a walk, to tell her she was getting a blanket… that her husband had appeared on the horizon and was going to catch up with them.

_In your dreams, Isabelle._ She sighed to herself as she grabbed ahold of the bars.

When the person came into view, she was taken aback by how he looked. He had grey hair, that extended into long sideburns. He was filthy and unshaven, but there was something about him that was different. He wore a wide, kind smile on his face and Isabelle found herself returning it to him.

'The name is Gibbs. Joshamee Gibbs, though, as I said, people just call me Gibbs.'

'Pleased to meet you, Isabelle Moran.' She replied, as she caught sight of the bowl he was holding in his hands. She didn't even know what was inside it, but her mouth was already watering; she could see the steam coming from the bowl. Food and warmth, those were the two things that she needed.

'Isabelle? Or Mrs. Moran?' He asked, and she saw the corner of his lips tug into an even wider smile, and she knew why. He was referring to the fact that every time his captain called her something other than Mrs Moran, it would earn him a slap from her.

'Isabelle to you. I don't think you had anything to do with this, did you?' She enquired, raising her perfectly trimmed eyebrow at him.

'Nay, Ms., I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen.' He admitted, the smile falling off his face momentarily, as he reached up with one hand to rub the back of his neck. When he stopped, he smiled at her again and placed the hand back on the bowl, before extending it out to her. 'But he asked me to bring you something to eat… I don't think it'll be the same as what you're used to, but it's food nonetheless.'

He pulled out the keys from his belt, and placed it into the lock, turning it and earning a loud groan of protest from the door.

He handed her the bowl and she took it off of him, looking at it with confusion on her face.

'May I ask what it is?' She asked, looking at the brown, soggy stuff - was it food? - that was in her bowl.

'It's porridge. As I said, it's probably not what you're used to, but if you hold your nose, you won't taste it. But it'll give you warmth and give you energy.' He advised, and she nodded her head in agreement. What he was saying was true. She might as well eat this disgusting thing, even if it was for the energy and the warmth it would provide… the last thing she wanted was to pass out from lack of energy from her lack of food.

'Thank you, Mr. Gibbs.' She smiled widely at him, and nodded her head as she picked up the spoon and took a heap of the porridge. After holding her breath, she placed it into her mouth and swallowed as quickly as she could, so the taste didn't stay on her tongue for too long.

She looked up and saw that he was closing the door again, and had started to leave her alone.

However, he stopped when she called out, 'Mr. Gibbs?'

'Aye, Ms. Isabelle?' He replied, turning around to face her with another smile on his face.

Was he always this kind?

'Do you think I could get a blanket? It's freezing down here, and I don't think the effect from _this _will last that long.' She answered, looking at him hopefully. She wasn't used to being told "no" but she had the feeling she would be experiencing it a lot on this trip.

He bit his lip, and looked at her for a few seconds before he answered her, 'I'll have to ask the captain, Ms., but I'll see what I can do. I don't see how it will be a problem.'

'Thank you, Mr. Gibbs.' She declared before she turned around and sat down again, resting her back against the bars as she finished the rest of her porridge.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

'So, you want a blanket?' A voice said, and Isabelle found her head whipping around to face the front, a couple of strands falling out form her bun as she did so. Her eyes narrowed marginally when she saw who it was. Their captain.

She hadn't even heard footsteps! She normally heard their heavy boots hitting against the stairs as they descended into the brig.

_He moves like a cat!_ Her mind hissed at her, and she shook her head once to clear that thought from her head.

'Yes, I did. Your brig is freezing! And you won't get your money if I freeze to death down here!' She added snidely, as her mouth tugged into a smirk at her own words. She had no idea where the wit and cockiness was coming from, but she was liking it!

He just rolled his eyes at her, before he moved his hands from behind his back and showed her the blanket. Instead of opening the door, he pushed it between the bars and into her already waiting hands.

'What's the matter? Am I a leper?' She muttered sarcastically as she unbundled the blanket and wrapped around her shoulders, tucking it against her form, and crossing her arms across her chest to hold it even closer to her.

'No, quite the contrary.' He replied huskily, and Isabelle clenched her fists that were tucked under her armpits. She ground her teeth together and fought against any reply that she had bubbling inside her mouth.

He gave her a wide grin in reply, but chose to remain silent. Though he did like that faint blush that was creeping up on her neck.

'Tell me,' he spoke suddenly, causing Isabelle to look up at him with questionable eyes. She had no idea what he was going to say… though she never knew what was going to come from this idiot's mouth. 'Does your husband please you enough, _Mrs. Moran_?' He asked, emphasising her name to show he was abiding by the rule she had set.

Isabelle's eyes widened, and she felt her mouth slacken. Did… did he just ask her what she thought he asked her? Did he? No, surely she misheard him.

But she knew she hadn't, for she saw the way his eyes sparkled in mischief, and she saw his mouth pull up in a dangerous smirk.

He had just asked her that!

How dare he? Why, if those bars weren't separating them, she would've slapped him!

'Excuse me?' She exclaimed, letting her hands drop to her side; her hands still balled into fists. She was sure if there weren't metal bars separating them, she would've used one on him by now.

'I believe you heard me,' he retorted, looking pointedly at her hands, before looking back into her eyes that were dancing with anger. 'Does your husband please you? Does he satisfy you? Does he make your eyes roll into the back of your head and your toes curl?'

'That is none of your concern!' Isabelle snapped, storming towards the bars and grasping them in her hands, almost pressing her face up against them, trying to get as close to him as those stupid things would allow! Her new blanket slipped from her shoulders, and was hanging down her back, her arms were the only thing that was holding it up.

'You see. I don't think he does, because, let's face it, if he did... you wouldn't be so _uptight_.' Jack reasoned, taking a step back as her hand shot between the bars and tried to swipe him. He gave a loud chuckle as his grin widened. It was like a caged kitten thinking she was a caged tiger.

'You know nothing about my life, you vile pathetic excuse for a pirate!' She spat at him, as she tightened her hold on the bars; grabbing them so hard her knuckles turned white and her fingers started to hurt, but she didn't care; the throbbing in her fingers were the least of her concern. Her _main _concern was wiping that smug smile off the pirate's face.

'You better get used to it, love,' he declared, completely forgetting about her rule this time around. She was behind bars and couldn't slap him this time. 'We're going to be sharing this ship for some time, until your dear ol' husband has had enough time to collect the money that I want.'

She didn't even mention that Matthew probably already had the money in the house, she was too busy trying to soothe the rising anger that she was experiencing that the thought completely escaped her.

'Anyway, what was the party for?' He asked, changing the conversation so abruptly that Isabelle was momentarily silenced, trying to wrap her head around it. The constant change of conversation was giving her whiplash.

'It was for my husband… he was promoted to Rear-Admiral.' She answered slowly, as she slowly peeled her hands off of the cold bars, that had made her hands bright red and bitingly cold. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders again, and tucked her hands under her armpits once more.

She had no idea why she was answering him; and she had no idea why she was telling him the truth. Maybe it was because she wanted to let him know just how high her husband was in the Navy's ranking. But for whatever reason, she had answered him anyway.

'Aw, that's sweet. Throwing a party for a husband you don't love.'

'Excuse me?' She questioned slowly, raising her brown eyes to meet his brown eyes.

'It's quite clear. I saw the way you were acting at your little _ball_. Every time he touched you, it was never enough. And every time he looked away from you, uninterested, I saw you die a little. You should trying getting a better man, love, someone who know how to treats a lady.' He explained, looking at his nails instead of looking at her; instead of taking in her reaction. 'I also saw the way you questioned your feelings every time he wrapped his arm around you. I know a lot about women, and I know when they are in love and when they are not. And trust me when I say, you may think you look at your… _husband _with loving eyes, but it's pretty easy to see you don't.'

Isabelle had remained quiet for his whole lecture, but she just couldn't stand this anymore! She couldn't stand the different directions this conversation was taking; the fact he was bringing up her greatest fear and the fact she was here; stuck upon this stupid bloody ship!

'Listen, Captain, I don't know why you picked me, but stay out of my life! I'm here, upon the only form of travel that I despise, locked in a freezing prison, being fed rubbish food as I wait for you to make up your mind to take me back home for your money! The last thing I need is to be delving into my private life, digging up problems that I have spent years trying to bury. I am willing to be civil, I am willing to be quiet, if it means you will stop causing me this… this… anger and pain and despair.' She stopped to take in a deep breath, and raised a hand to wipe away a stray tear that had fallen down her cheek. 'I don't care if I don't love him, or if he doesn't love me, I made a vow to spend my life with him, and that is what I intend to do. So, please let this lie and leave it alone!'

Jack watched her wipe under her eyes with her thumb, swallow thickly and then run her hand over her face. She sighed and looked him in the eye again, looking to see what he was going to say next. When he remained silent, she turned her back to him and leaned against the bar, before she slid to the ground and closed her eyes, resting her head against the bars behind her.

And she let out a sigh of relief when she heard him leave this time.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps descend into the brig for the third time that day.

'The captain or Gibbs?' She asked softly, not even bothering to turn her head to find out the answer this time. She still hadn't recovered from her talk with the captain, and because of that, she really hoped that it was the latter.

'The one and only, Captain Jack Sparrow.' A husky voice answered her, and she closed her eyes momentarily before she opened them; still not bothering to turn around.

'What do you want?' She asked shortly, not wanting to wait anymore; unwilling to have a repeat of the last time they spoke.

'I have a proposition for you.' He answered, though he was a little put off from the way she was acting, but he didn't let it bother him too much.

'Really? What is it?' She asked, after biting her lip to stop it from trembling. She didn't even know why it was trembling; the coldness, the fear or the waiting, she didn't know.

'You said you'd agree to be civil, well, if you decide to stay civil, you can get out of the brig and sleep in the side cabin.' He stated, and she picked her head up when he stopped speaking. For the first time since he had came back down to the brig, she turned her head to face him, and regarded him with a raised eyebrow and a curious expression on her face.

'Why would you do that?' She asked, her eyes narrowing as she tried to think of a reason behind his actions. He seemed like the person who would do things, only if he got something out of it… what would he get out of this arrangement?

'I have my reasons. Do you agree or do you not?' He snapped, and she swallowed thickly before closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.

When she opened her eyes, her mind was set, 'I'll think about it.' She answered, before she turned her head back around, and stayed silent until she heard him exhale angrily and storm away.

She thought about his offer until she fell asleep, and even then, it seeped into her dreams

* * *

_**Please review!**_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	6. Chapter VI

_**Have I mentioned that I love writing this story? No? Well, I'm doing it now!**  
_

_**Thank you to everyone that has reviewed this story! I love you all so much! :D**_

* * *

_~Come back from the dead,  
You've been inside your head for too long,  
Are you with me now?  
Find the places that scare you,  
Come on I dare you,  
Are you with me?~_

_Sixx: A.M. - Are You With Me Now?_

* * *

**Chapter VI.**

'Come on! Where the hell are you, you useless pirate?' She whispered as she grabbed ahold of the bars in front of her, trying to get a better view of the stairs, looking for any sign that the infuriating pirate was coming down into the brig to get her answer.

She had spent the whole night thinking it over, only getting a few hours of sleep. She didn't even take this long to think when Matthew asked her to marry her! And that was a bigger decision in her life than this was! But it didn't seem like it. It was like this was the most important decision she would ever make in her life, and she didn't want to get it wrong. But she had finally decided what to do.

Now, it was just a matter of waiting for Captain Jack Sparrow to come down into the brig and get her answer. Something that looked like it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

'Hurry up! I've made my decision, don't you want to hear it?' She exclaimed, before she banged her hands against the bars in a fit of rage.

After waiting for a minute to see if he would reply, she turned on her heel and stormed over to sit in the corner when she realised that he wasn't coming down to find out what she was shouting about.

'I can't believe I'm wanting him to come down here.' She hissed at herself, as she ran a hand over her face, before she reached up and started to pull the pins in her hair out. Strand by strand, her hair started to cascade around her face. The tight curls fell down like curtains, before she reached up and brushed them behind her ear.

She didn't really like having her hair down, but the pins had been in her head for far too long, and it was starting to cause her pain.

She hugged the blanket around her form, pulling it tighter to her body. Her dress wasn't made of the lightest material, and had a decent amount of layers, but she just couldn't get warm in it. There was something about the temperature down in the brig that had her shaking to her core.

'You should wear your hair down more often… you suit it better that way.' A voice declared, drawing her from her thoughts. She turned around and found herself face to face with none other than the pirate she had been begging to appear.

'Funny… my husband says the opposite.' She stated, a small smile finding its way onto her lips… and she had no idea why.

'Really? He needs his eyes checked then, love.' He retorted, and she just shook her head once before she fixed her brown eyes on to his.

'I've made my mind up.' She informed, as her head automatically raised slightly. She had no idea she had done it, but it was a movement that Jack didn't miss.

'Really? And what is it?' He enquired, as he moved forward so he standing in front of the bars. He raised his arms and rested them against the cold iron, leaning even closer to them. She found herself taking steps forward until she was near enough resting against the metal bars as well.

'I'm willing to remain civil… if it gets me out of this hellish brig, and into decent accommodations.' She started, and she was already starting to regret her decision when she saw the smirk that was starting to appear on the pirate's face. But she knew she'd regret staying down here even more, so she continued, 'One one condition,' she watched with pleasure as his smirk fell off his face. 'You have to remember I am a married woman. I do not want you making lewd comments. You may think I do not love my husband, but I do, dearly, and I do not want to be touched by another man.'

Jack wanted to tell her that she was lying, that he could hear it in her voice, but he remembered the reaction he had gotten from her yesterday, and decided better of it. He was all for putting people in their places when they thought they were better than others, but he couldn't help but feel he had overdone it yesterday… he just had no idea it would've been a fear she already had.

'Will do, love. I won't touch you… unless you ask me to, of course.' He added with a wink, and she ground her teeth together before snapping, 'Don't worry, I will not!'

'You seem so certain of that, Mrs. Moran.'

'Because I am! All I want is to get off this horrible ship and back to my home. And I do not want your filthy hands anywhere near me.' She hissed, as she took a step back and away from the bars; moving away from him.

Jack's brow furrowed, before he raised his hands to his face and inspected them. Filthy? Sure, they weren't the cleanest of hands, but he wouldn't call them _filthy, _mainly because he had seen worse before.

'What is it with you posh folk and hygiene?' He asked, as he brought his finger to his mouth and bit a hangnail off, chewing it in his mouth for a split second before he spat it out.

Isabelle watched him with disgust, fighting her strongest urge to gag at his movement. She swallowed thickly, trying to soothe the rising bile that was coming up her throat at what she just saw him doing.

'You are disgusting.' She whispered, as she placed a hand over her stomach; she had the strongest feeling this wasn't going to end well. The combination of _that _act, and the swaying of the ship that she never could stand was starting to be too much for her. She then placed the other hand over her mouth, and closed her eyes, but that didn't help her one bit; if anything it made her feel worse, for the pitching and rolling of the ship suddenly because more vivid.

Jack watched her movements, and his eyes widened in realisation at what was wrong with her. Within an instant, he pulled the keys from his jacket and opened the door to the brig, going over to her and grabbing her arm.

'Hurry up and walk. When we get to the cabin you'll feel better. It's not as bad there, because it's not as close to the pitch-and-roll of the ship.'

She merely nodded her head, and allowed him to lead her to the cabin. She was too concerned in keeping the contents of her stomach inside that she missed all the odd looks the crew were giving her.

He sat her down on his bunk, not really thinking about sitting her anywhere else. His seat was in too awkward a position to put her into right now, and he just needed to get her sitting down before she was sick.

She sat down and leaned over so her head was near enough between her legs as she breathed in deeply. She remained like that for a few seconds, before she exhaled slowly and brought her head up to look at him.

'Thanks.' She muttered, not really sure why she wanted to thank him, but he did deal with it quite well… maybe that was why.

'Why didn't you tell me you got seasick?' He asked her, moving over so he could sit in his seat. Maybe that was another reason he didn't put her there, because that would've left him with nowhere to sit, and there was nothing better than sitting on his seat, at his desk, looking over at the people in his cabin. It made him seem more… captainy.

'Oh, sorry! But it's not like you came up to me and said "look, I'm planning on kidnapping you to get money out of your husband, but could you let me know if you get seasick? It would really help a lot! Thanks!"' She replied hotly, as she found herself pulling her blanket even tighter around her.

Jack stared at her, before he chuckled. Isabelle looked at him with confusion, but soon found herself joining in with him. It wasn't really a voluntary move, but she just couldn't help herself. Maybe it was the stress. She had only been on this ship for… she still had no idea, really.

'How long have I been here for?' She asked once her laughter had begun to die down. She decided that she would rather find out sooner rather than later. It would probably make her feel better with her thoughts that Matthew was going to come after.

'Near enough a week. The drug is quite powerful, so it knocked you out for near enough 3 days.' Jack replied, as he picked up a rum bottle and brought it to his lips to take a large gulp.

Isabelle nodded.

So, she had been on this ship for five days, and she had already been through so much. Maybe the laughter was her body's way of letting go of some of the stress. She had no idea, but she wasn't really going to argue with it, because she had to admit that it felt quite good to be laughing again. She couldn't really think of the last time she had just _laughed _for no real reason; she couldn't think of the last time she laugh just because something was so bloody funny.

'I hope you don't mind me asking this,' she spoke up, after a few minutes of silence. 'But where are we going?'

'Tortuga; it's a pirate port.' Jack explained, kicking his feet up so they were resting on his desk. He took another gulp from his rum before continuing, 'It's just somewhere your husband doesn't know about, so we can go there for a few days, let him stew, gather the money, then we'll head to another island… before heading home. So, you can be reunited with your dear ol' husband, and I can get my money.'

'Just how much did you ask for?' She asked, and when he answered her, she found herself laughing again.

'Really? Is that _all_? Captain Sparrow, I do not wish to look like a snob, but I've had _dresses _cost more than that!'

She laughed again, and this time Jack joined in with her, moving his feet off of his desk, and resting his elbows there instead.

'That may be, love,' he started, in between his chuckles that still hadn't completely stopped yet. 'But it's all I need to repay my debts. Any profit can be got from pillaging ships, but trust me when I say, the people I owe aren't going to wait that long for their money back. Hence the drastic measures.'

'Why did you pick me?' She enquired, her laughter stopping short as soon as the question popped into her head, and as soon as it popped into her head it spilled out of her mouth. It was something that she hadn't really thought about since she had realised what had happened to her. She had been angry, sad, weak… but she had never been curious.

'Well,' Jack began slowly, trying to word this the right way. 'I wanted someone rich, who could give me the money, so the best place to look was London. As soon as we docked, we heard of your little party and thought it would be the best opportunity to do anything. We had everyone to pick from, but I decided the best person would be the person throwing the ball; you. It was nothing personal, love. It's not like I saw you and thought that I needed to pick you… you were just the best target.'

'Huh.' Isabelle breathed, as she brushed down her skirt before looking up at him again with a small smile on her face. 'I don't know if that makes it better or worse.' She joked, shaking her head at his answer.

'Probably a little of both, am I right?' He ventured, and she shrugged before nodding.

'I think you're right. Better that you didn't target me specifically, but worse that if I didn't throw that stupid party, I wouldn't be here right now!' She exclaimed, burying her face in her hands. She didn't really want to be feeling like this, but it was true! If she hadn't thrown that bloody party, he would never have picked her, because he didn't just want her and no one else. He just wanted a woman with a rich husband, and she was standing there with a big advertisement on her.

She ran her hand over her face, before she looked up at him again. She had every intention of asking him a different question, but as soon as she opened her mouth, her stomach rumbled and she found herself asking, 'When is dinner?' instead.

'Whenever. I think there is stew made, so, it would just need heated.'

'Stew? Is that it? Stew? There is nothing else? No, fish or chicken or anything else? Just _stew_?' She asked, and when he nodded his head, she groaned. 'Lovely.'

'That's another reason we need to go to Tortuga. We're short on supplies. Such as bait for the fish.'

She sighed deeply, standing up from the bed, and dusting down her dress before tightening her blanket again.

'Can I have some then?' She enquired, and he nodded his head before standing and walking over to the door. He popped his head out and shouted at a crew member to go and fetch some, before walking back over to sit at his desk.

Isabelle rolled her eyes before she walked over to the side cabin and opened the door.

'How did you know the side cabin was there?' He asked, and she just rolled her eyes at him.

'Just because I get seasick, doesn't mean I've never been on one before. I know the basic layout of a ship, Captain Sparrow. You learn these things when you marry a sailor.' She stated, before she walked into the cabin and closed the door behind her, before moving over to sit on her own temporary bed.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

After finally receiving her stew, she had wolfed it down. Sure, it maybe wasn't the most appetising thing to eat, but she was _starving hungry _and it was food. It was warm food. She didn't care what it was or how it tasted, it was something that made her feel full.

She picked the bowl up in her hands and headed to the door of her side cabin, and opened it. When she was back into the main cabin, she found Jack hunched over a map at his desk, and she cleared her throat to get his attention.

'I'm assuming I'm not allowed to leave this place, so, here is my empty bowl.' She declared, before she moved over to stand beside him and sat the bowl on his table. He nodded his head, dismissing it with a wave his hand. A crew member would get that eventually.

However, when she didn't move, he sat down his measuring instrument, and looked up at her.

'Is there anything else?'

'Yes. I was wishing to retire to bed.' She stated, but as soon as she realised that her statement could've been taken a different way, she continued before he could make a comment about it. 'So, I need something to wear. This dress isn't made for sleeping in. It's too heavy and too tight.'

'I'm sorry, love, but I don't carry nightdresses on my ship.'

'I'd be worried if you did.' She found herself muttering, but when he fixed her with a glare she bit her lip. 'There must be something that I can wear. I can't fall asleep in this dress again. Especially now that I have a _real _bed.'

Jack thought for a minute, before he stood from his chair and walked over to a chest that was sitting beside his bed. He rummaged around it for a minute, before he pulled something white - or at least, it used to be white - and walked back over to Isabelle. He handed to her, and she unbundled it and held it up in front of her.

'One of your shirts?' She stated, and he hummed in response before he sat back down at his desk, picking up his instrument again and started to plan his route.

'You expect me to sleep in one of your old shirts?'

'You either sleep in your dress, in that shirt, or naked. Take your pick.' He retorted, not looking up from his map.

Isabelle stared at him with pursed lips before she grunted in anger, and turned on her heel, storming back to the side cabin and loudly shutting the door behind her. Grudgingly, she pulled off her dress and slipped into his old shirt before she collapsed on the bed.

She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

_**Let me know what you think in a review!**_

**_~Charlotte.x_**


	7. Chapter VII

_**Chapter 7 is here everyone! Hope you enjoy it! **  
_

_**And thank you so much for reading this! :D**_

* * *

_~You are my accuser now look in my face,  
Your oppression reeks of your breed and disgrace,  
So, one man has and another has not,  
How can you love what it is you have got?  
When you took it all from the weak hands of the poor,  
Liars and thieves you know what is in store.~_

_Mumford and Sons - Dust Bowl Dance._

* * *

**Chapter VII.**

She had relished in sleeping in a real bed. Sure, it wasn't as luxurious as the one she had back home, but when she had spent the past few days sleeping sitting up, resting against cold, iron bars, the lumpy mattress was heaven. A part of her still wished she hadn't given in to his offer, but now that she was awake, fully rested, with no backaches, or sore heads from a horrible night sleep, she was glad she had said yes.

She just couldn't believe she had said she would remain civil.

How was she supposed to remain civil with that man? When he made comments about her and her husband; when he constantly changed the topic of the conversation with no hint or warning. He was a mystery, and not the good kind. He wasn't some the mystery that belonged in a child's fairytale, he was the mystery of a murder; the mystery of sin.

And she had no intentions of experiencing his mystery… or his sins for that matter. And she was sure he had sinned; she was sure he had committed every sin there was out there to commit.

She rolled onto her back, and rested one hand above her head; her other hand fell on top of her stomach. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself back to sleep, but she just couldn't. There was shouting outside, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't block it out. She didn't want to find out what was happening outside; she just wanted to stay in here. She didn't want to see the crew, because she knew what they would think of her.

She was the posh, snobby, bitchy woman they had kidnapped for money. She was the woman they were risking their life for. And they were. If Matthew caught up with them, he would surely have them hanged. But Isabelle wasn't sure whether it would be because they kidnapped her, or because they were just pirates.

She let out a sigh, and turned her head to the side. She hated that he was right; that every touch her husband gave her wasn't enough; that she tried to fool herself into loving him, but she couldn't. She had buried that thought deep down inside her. She had started to realise that a year or so after they were married. He always put work first, and she wanted to be his everything. She knew it was foolish, no man would choose a woman over a high job in the King's Navy.

He came home from his work, just to do more work. He was always away for long periods of time and Isabelle couldn't stand that. It was in those periods she bonded with Ariana. She had no one else to talk to except her chambermaid. She had no idea what she would've done without her.

But it still wasn't enough. Everyone had always told her she should've been proud of her husband, risking his life to protect his country, and while she was, it wasn't enough. She was selfish. She wanted her husband by his side. She wanted his opinion when she was building the stables; she wanted his opinion when she redecorated their room… but he was never there to give it. And when he returned, he didn't even notice.

Four stables had erected on their land, and their room had changed from one room to another, and he _still _didn't notice, and when she pointed it out, he didn't even care.

There was actually a part of her that didn't want him to come for her. It wasn't that she wanted to live a life at sea, in fact, she most certainly did not want that, but maybe if he didn't come for her, the captain would get tired of her and put her out of her misery. Or maybe she would develop a sickness and that would take her instead.

She scoffed.

'You'd rather die than go home. Why haven't you realised this before?' She spat at herself, before she sat up and threw the covers away from her. She wouldn't allow herself to talk like that! She wasn't going to be ungrateful. Matthew had done a lot for her, and as she had said to _Captain Jack Sparrow_, she had made a vow before her family, her friends and her God that she would spend the rest of her life with him. She had uttered the words "till death do us part", and she had every intentions of keeping that vow.

And she wasn't going to wish death upon herself to get out of it either.

As soon as she stood from her bed, a sudden breeze licked around her legs, and she looked down in surprise. Her eyes widened in realisation of what she was wearing; the captain's shirt.

She immediately felt disgusted and pulled the shirt off her person, leaving her completely naked.

_Please, someone don't walk in. _She thought to herself, as she look around herself and realised she'd had to put her old undergarments and dress back on. She ground her teeth together, but picked them up and put them on nonetheless.

Once decent, she opened the door and emerged from her side cabin into the main cabin. She looked around herself and found a small basin of water sitting in one corner of the cabin. She walked over to it, and hesitantly looked into it. When she decided it was clean water, she placed her hands in it and cupped the water before bringing it up and splashing it over her face.

She did this a few times before she picked up the small towel that was sitting beside it and dried her face. She looked around herself, trying to find another thing that she needed; a hairbrush.

Isabelle walked over to his desk, looking to see if she could see one there, when she noticed a peculiar looking map. It was circular, and had three sections that could be moved about, as if to form different places. She furrowed her brows and reached out with a hand to move one of the circles when she heard Jack's voice getting dangerously close to the cabin.

Biting her lip, she reacted on instinct. She rolled up the map and ran to her cabin, shoving it under her pillow before slipping back into the main cabin again. Just as she shut the door, she heard the main cabin door open.

'Ah, you're up.' He grinned at her, and she nodded her head, not trusting her voice to speak. She didn't want to give away what she had just done.

She cleared her throat and took a step away from her door, before she spoke, hoping it gave nothing away, 'Yes. Though, I was wondering if you had a hairbrush. My hair needs to be tamed.'

She smiled at him as she gestured to her unruly locks.

He didn't really see anything wrong with her hair, but the last thing he wanted to do was get her wound up again, so he gestured to one of his chests and said, 'I think there is one in there.'

Isabelle walked over to it and cautiously opened it, before peering inside. There sitting inside the box was various items, but the one that got her attention was a silver handled brush. She reached in and took it out, holding it up to investigate it.

'It's lovely. Do you remember who you stole it from?' She asked, looking pointedly at him.

'What makes you think I stole it?' He retorted with a growing smirk on his lips, and she just shook her head once.

'I do not see you buying a hairbrush… especially with the state your hair is in.' She declared as she started to brush her hair, wincing as the brush got caught in the many tangles.

He looked at her with pursed lips, his hand unconsciously reaching up to finger one of his many dreadlocks, before moving onto one the jewels that decorated his hair. When he realised what he was doing, he blinked several times before dropping his hand.

'I got it from some Spanish tart; that's all I remember.' He answered eventually, and Isabelle rolled her eyes at him.

'How charming.' She muttered, before putting the hairbrush back in its box and closed it. She made her way back through to her cabin and picked up the pins that she had taken from her hair the day before, and started to pin her hair back up.

Just as she was putting the last pin in her hair, she emerged from her cabin and looked at him, before looking to the large windows that was at the back of the cabin.

'The sun is out.' She stated lightly, gaining his attention. He looked at the window, and then back at her, and saw the way she gazed at the bright blue skies longingly.

'It is. It's nice and warm as well,' he added, before scratching the stubble on his jaw. 'If you want, you can go out in it later.'

Isabelle whipped her head around to look at him, shock evident on her face.

'You're letting me out?'

'Where're you gonna go? I doubt you could swim back home, and you don't look stupid enough to try.'

She giggled and turned her head back to look at the sky from the window.

'I may go out later.' She stated, before she walked back to the cabin, with every intention of looking at that map first before she did anything else.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

Nothing was making sense. There wasn't a _single _thing on that map that made any sense to her. And she knew why. Because she just couldn't stop being distracted by the sun that was blaring in through the small window that was in her side cabin.

She wanted to figure out information about the map, but she wanted to feel the heat bouncing off her skin even more.

So, with that in mind, Isabelle hid the map back under her pillow and stood up, stretching as she did. She headed out from her cabin and into the main one, looking around herself.

He wasn't in the cabin.

Biting her lip, she moved over to the large bookshelf that was against one of the walls of the cabin, and started to browse through the various books that adorned the shelves. A large, brown leather bound book caught her attention, and she pulled it out, flicking through the pages. It was then she noticed it was in Latin, and she smiled. As her eyes scanned over the words, she realised she had read it before.

She closed the book over and held it to her body. She hoped he would be okay with her borrowing a book that she could read in the sun.

She walked over to the door and opened it, her eyes screwing up as the sun blared into her eyes. She raised a hand over her eyes, blocking out the sun as she scanned the deck for the captain, she wanted to make sure that she was still allowed out here; and that it was okay for her to have the book.

She found him standing by the helm, and she hesitantly walked up to him.

'Am I still allowed out?' She asked with a small smile on her face, as she watched him turn away from the horizon in front of him and face her.

'What? Eh, aye. If you still want to,' he shrugged, as he turned the wheel to the left, before he turned his eyes back to her.

She nodded, before she brought the book out from behind her back, where she had hid it when she had approached the helm. She didn't even know she had done it! It must've been an automatic reaction.

'Is it okay if I read this? I have it in the library back home, and I love it; it would be nice to read and sit in the sun.' She explained, as she felt her face heat up, and it wasn't because of the sun.

He looked at the book she had chosen with interest, raising his eyebrow in shock, 'That's in Latin? You know how to read Latin?'

'I was brought up reading Latin, Captain Sparrow. Do not think that because I am rich, I am self-centred and uncultured.'

He didn't reply to her, knowing that anything he said would just set her off. Instead he turned his head back to face the horizon, and started humming away to himself.

Isabelle looked at him in confusion, before she shook her head and walked away. She headed down the stairs, and when she reached the bottom, she sat down on the last step and opened the book at the first page and began to read.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

She had kicked her shoes off; they were abandoned on the stair beside her. She had curled her legs around, and as she supported the book with one hand, her other unconsciously massaged her bare foot.

She was so absorbed in the book, that she visibly jumped when a voice spoke beside her.

'Comfy?'

The book fell from her hand, losing her place and drawing her from the plot sharply. She turned her head to the source of the voice and found Jack sitting beside her, completely amused with her reaction. Well, she just assumed that, going by the large grin on his face, and his eyes that were dancing with laughter.

She had the strongest urge to wipe that look from his face… but she didn't.

'Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?' She quipped, as she stood from the step and dusted down her dress. She slipped her shoes back on before she leaned down and picked the book back up, inspecting it carefully to make sure the pages did not get crinkled when she dropped it.

Jack stood up and followed her over to her new position at the railing.

'So, tell me, Mrs. Moran. Who was the cute blonde you were talking to at the table? Just before I appeared?'

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed as she tried to think of what he was talking about. Suddenly, recognition it her, and she swallowed before answering, 'Ariana… she's my… _friend_.'

Isabelle smiled widely. She was glad she could finally introduce Ariana as a friend, and not her maid or her servant. The word seemed so… natural.

Though, she had to admit, she didn't like the fact he was calling her cute. Ariana was beautiful; she wasn't cute. She was not some child that wore a pretty bow on her head, looking for praise. She was a woman who deserved a real compliment. Not the same endearment that someone would give to a five year old… or a dog!

'Friend? I wouldn't call a slave a friend.'

His voice brought her from her thoughts, and suddenly the smile dropped from Isabelle's face and she regarded him with a tight, clenched jaw.

'Excuse me? I do not have slaves.'

'Well, granted, you don't have any that you've uprooted from their home in a different country, but come on, I've seen how you treat help. It's less like servant and more like slave.'

'How "you" treat help? You who?'

'You posh folk. You don't seem to see them as equals, do you?'

Isabelle couldn't take it anymore. She slammed the large book against the railing, startling him so much he gave a tiny jump.

'Look! I don't know what kind of "posh folk" you've been seeing, but do not compare me with those horrible people! My servants have their own side of the house. Their families stay with them! And if they have larger families, I pay their rent, as well as giving them wages! I do not have a lot, and I know _every single one _of them. If they want the day off, they get it. If they need to bring their child to work, I allow it. You know nothing of the way I treat my "help" as you called them.'

She took a deep breath in, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they looked like they were on fire; he was just glad that looks could not kill.

'And another thing; she is my friend. I have told her things that I have told no one else. The only thing that stops us is the stupid social ladder that I _must _abide by, because of who my husband is. But I can use that to my advantage; I offered to pay her dowry for when her Prince Charming comes along.' She informed, before she picked the book up and tucked it under her arm. 'Because - as you've pointed out so often - I know what it's like to be stuck in a loveless marriage, and I do not want her doing the same. Marrying out of propriety rather than love!'

Her voice was rising with every word she spoke, and by the time she had finished, she had gathered the attention of the rest of the crew.

'So, Captain Sparrow, do not speak of things you do not understand, or form opinions without all the information. Now, if you do not mind, I shall go back to the cabin.'

He finally found his voice, and asked, 'What happened to spending the day reading in the sun?'

But this was the wrong thing to say, for she stopped dead in her tracks, and turned around to face him, a deadly glare on her face. She breathed in deeply through her nose, and when she spoke again, her voice was like venom; dripping with unadulterated loathing.

'I don't care for the sun, the reading or the peacefulness, because it would mean being near _you_!' She spat, before she turned on her heel and stormed back to her cabin, slamming the door shut; even though she knew he could not hear it.

* * *

_**Review and let me know what you think!**_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	8. Chapter VIII

**_Hey all! I'm back from my hiatus! Woo hoo! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and stick around till the end, as I have an few important announcements regarding this story! _**

* * *

_~This is just a courtesy call,  
This is a matter of policy,  
This is just an act of kindness,  
To let you know that your time is up.~_

_Sixx: A.M. - Courtesy Call._

* * *

**Chapter VIII.**

'Where the hell is it?' He snapped, as he stormed into the side cabin without knocking. Isabelle was quick to react and had quickly stuffed the map under her pillow once more, and looked at him; trying not to look like the cat that had caught the canary.

'Where is what?' She repeated, as she looked into his brown eyes and saw nothing but suspicion there. She knew that he knew she had the map, but she was going to keep it for as long as she could. It had interested her to no end; and he had no right to come storming in here, especially when he hadn't spoken to her for two days now. Not that she wanted him to speak to her, but he had insulted her! The least he could do was apologise!

'The map! I know you've got it, Mrs. Moran, so don't try and play me for a fool.' He hissed as he took a step forward so he was standing directly in front of her; towering over her.

She sighed heavily, and moved her hand under the pillow and grabbed ahold of the map. 'I wouldn't dream on it, Captain.' She said as she outstretched her hand and the map to him. He took it off of her, but was confused by her crestfallen expression.

'What's the matter, love?' He asked, and she shook her head for a second before she looked up at him. When she saw genuine curiosity written on his face, she decided that she could actually tell him. That she wanted to tell him.

'It's nothing really. It's actually quite silly. I've just always been interested in mapping and all of that; ever since I was little, I would sit on my father's lap and he would show me different places. But I haven't done it since then, because Matthew doesn't like me looking at his maps. He says it's not proper for a woman to do it, and that I wouldn't understand them… I guess when I saw that map, it triggered something within me. But, if you don't want me to look at the map either, I won't.' She answered sadly, before she slowly stood from her bed and dusted down her dress; the same dress she had worn since she had been brought upon this ship. No one had even offered to wash it for her.

She turned away from Jack, and picked up the shirt that she was still sleeping in and dusted it down. She then placed it on the bed and was about to turn back to him when he grabbed ahold of her wrist.

'Come here.' He muttered, before he started to drag her out of the side cabin and into the main one. She furrowed her eyebrows but did not protest as he led her over to his desk and placed her into his seat. He moved a few pieces of parchment about, and sat the map she had stolen to the side. He pulled out another, larger one that near enough took up the entire size of the desk.

Her eyes flickered to the old map for a second, and she asked, 'Why can't I look at that one?'

Jack's eyes flickered towards it for a second, before he replied, 'Because it's broken, love.'

He then leaned over her and smirked at her as he started to point out things on the map that she replied to, saying she knew that or a quiet gasp at the new knowledge.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

They had docked in Tortuga. Finally.

Isabelle could finally get of that Godforsaken ship, and on to steady land. She could finally stand on ground that did not sway every second, and did not turn her stomach with the movements. She felt the relief the moment that anchor had went down and the ship steadied slightly.

She sighed as she slowly descended the gangplank and as soon as her feet were onto the dock, her lips broke into a wide smile of pure relief.

'You look happier.' Jack stated and she turned her head around to face him; her smile not falling off her face.

'I was not made for a ship. It's a Godsend to be back on… stable land.' She chuckled as she wriggled her feet, just to make sure that nothing was going to happen. To make sure that the hard ground beneath her wasn't going to suddenly start pitching and rolling.

'Come on, love.' He grinned at her, and motioned with his head before he started moving off. As she moved to follow him, she felt her legs shaking, and she realised it was because she had been on the ship for so long. Her legs had grown accustomed to the constant swaying, and now that she no longer had to deal with it, they were shaky.

She could've laughed at the irony of it all. Her body hated being on the ship; the constant moving disturbing her stomach so much that she was usually sick, and here it was now, finding it disconcerting to be back on solid ground.

'Captain Sparrow?' She called, and he stopped in his fast walking to turn back to her with an eyebrow raised.

'Aye, love?'

'Now that we've docked on this island, can I get a real nightgown? I have slept in your old shirt far too long.' She muttered, as she looked around herself in the hope this place actually had a shop she could purchase clothes from. But as she saw several women walking by, she realised that they must have, because they needed to get their dresses from somewhere.

He opened his mouth, and just going by the look on his face, she knew he was going to protest, so she decided to cut him off before he could, 'Bear in mind Captain, you are going to be getting enough money when you take me home. I do not believe a nightgown with cut into your payment that deeply, do you?'

Jack pursed his lips for a second before he lowered the hand that he had raised in protest to her request.

'All right then, love.' He declared before he turned on his heel once more, and continued in his previous direction.

Isabelle followed him with furrowed brows, thinking that convincing him to buy her a nightgown was easy; too easy. But she said nothing on it, because if it got her what she wanted, she was not about to complain.

She quickened her pace so that she caught up with him and was walking beside him, instead of trailing behind him. They made their way towards a building that had a sign hanging above the door, with the words "The Faithful Bride" on it. Just before they walked through the doors, Jack grabbed ahold of Isabelle's upper arm and pulled her closer to him.

'Don't move from my side.' He muttered into her ear and she gulped as they finally entered the tavern. She was near enough gagging the minute she stepped foot into the place; it was dirty; filthy; smelly. There were so many bodies crammed into such a tiny space that the noise was unbearable and the stench of sweat was so pungent her hand went to her stomach to soothe it.

He pulled her over to a - surprisingly - empty table and he sat down on one of the seats, motioning for her to sit on the other one. Looking at the alcohol stained wood, her face screwed up in distaste before she cautiously sat down on it.

A barmaid walked up to them, her eyes dancing with lust as they landed on Jack. She reached out and ran a hand across his shoulder and down his arm before she asked, 'What do you want, Jack?'

'A rum and a…?' He turned to look at Isabelle questioningly.

'A water, please.' She finished, her voice nothing but a whisper as she looked up towards the woman. She nodded her head and before she left, she gave Jack a grin and leaned down to whisper something in his ear; something that had Jack smirking widely.

'Please tell me we won't be here long?' Isabelle questioned the minute the barmaid walked away. Jack turned to look at her, and his smirk momentarily fell off his face. Seeing that made Isabelle realise exactly what the barmaid had been whispering in his ear.

'No. One or two drinks then we'll go and get you a nightgown.'

'We? Can't I get it myself?' She asked, and he just gave her a look; a look that had her questioning her own intelligence.

'You expect me, to let you - a defenceless woman - walk around Tortuga - a pirate port?' He asked slowly, making sure that she understood all of his words. 'Or how about this. You expect me, to let you - my ticket to a lot of money - walk about Tortuga - where you can get passage back to London? Do you think I'm that stupid? Are _you _that stupid?'

Isabelle ground her teeth together and exhaled through her nose, thankful for when the barmaid came back with her water. She reached out for the glass the minute it was on the table, and brought it to her lips, taking a large gulp of the refreshing liquid.

She then turned back towards Jack and as he raised his glass of rum to his mouth, his eyes trailing after the barmaid, she realised one thing, the night would not go as easily as he said it would.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

'Try not and take too long.' Jack hissed, as the walked into the first shop they had saw. Isabelle rolled her eyes but nodded along nonetheless.

'Of course not. I want to get back to the ship and sleep, thank you very much. If you had detached yourself from the whore on your lap, you would've realised I've been yawning for the past two hours.' She spat as she pushed the door open and looked up with distaste as a bell rang sharply.

'What's the matter? Jealous?' He grinned at her, and she whirled around to face him.

'No I am not! But you were so determined to drag me to that tavern with you, the least you could do was act as if I was there!'

With a roll of her eyes, she turned back around and started perusing the small shop. She saw the night garments over in one corner and walked up to it. She picked out the first one she saw and held it up to herself. When she knew that it would fit her, she stormed over to the counter and placed it on top of it, in front of the old woman that was there.

She looked up at her, before she looked at the garment that Isabelle had chosen and informed her of the price.

'He's paying.' Isabelle declared, pointing behind her to Jack, who ground his teeth together and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out the right amount of money needed. He handed it over to the old woman, who smiled and went to grab the nightgown to wrap it up.

However, Isabelle got there first, and snatched it from her grasp. She bundled it up into a small ball and smiled down at the old woman.

'Thank you.' She stated, before she turned and stormed out of the store, ignoring Jack completely.

He said nothing, but turned and walked out as well, following her back to the ship. When they walked up the gangplank, Isabelle headed straight for the main cabin, slamming the door shut behind her. She sighed and leaned against the door before she decided she'd have to go to the side cabin instead. The last thing she needed was to see Jack right now.

And as she made her way into her cabin, she pulled the strings on her dress loose and smiled wide to herself as the act brought her relief. The minute her dress was loose enough, she shrugged out of it and let it drop to the ground. She bit her lip and looked down at her filthy undergarments in disgust. Deciding that because she was aboard a ship of lawless pirates, she would remove them and just sleep in her new nightgown.

She removed her undergarments and slipped her new nightgown on, relishing in the feeling of the smooth cotton stroking her skin. Sighing in bliss, she slid into the bed, between the cold sheets and curled up to one side.

There were many things about that moment that she appreciated, but her favourite had to be the fact she was sleeping in nothing else but the nightgown that Jack had bought for her.

* * *

_**Okay! What did you think of that? Let me know in a review!**_

**_So, this story is becoming harder and harder for me to write! I had to force myself to do this, and haven't done another one since! That's right, 6 weeks off, and I just managed one chapter. It's not getting discontinued, because it's going to be a short one anyway, with not a lot of chapters, so I do not see the point in discontinuing it! However, it will only be updated every two weeks from now on. I just don't have the motivation to churn out a chapter for this weekly! _**

**_Also, I have a new story! A Dark Shadows, Barnabas/OC story called "This is Gonna Hurt". These are being updated every three weeks because of how many other stories I have to finish, but I would really appreciate it if you could read and review them!_**

**_And I got rid of the chapter titles, I seemed to spend more time coming up with titles that actually writing the chapter, so I gave up with them. ;p_**

**_Thank you so much for reading this! Don't forget to review, as well as check out This Is Gonna Hurt! :D_**

**_Until next time!_**

**_~Charlotte.x_**


	9. Chapter IX

**_Hello! Hope you all remember me and this story! I know it's been a while... uh about 2 or 3 months maybe? Anyway! I'm back with another chapter! Not as long as usual, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless because I feel proud that I managed to write 2000+ words for this story, because it's been a lot of pain to get inspiration for it! But I really want to finish it by the end of this year, so I'm going be trying my hardest to write this and find inspiration for it. _**

**_So, I won't ramble on any longer... here's the chapter!_**

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_~Did you write the book of love?  
And do you have faith in God above?  
If the Bible tells you so.  
And do you believe in rock and roll?  
Can music save your mortal soul?  
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?~_

_Don McLean - American Pie._

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**Chapter IX.**

'You know what would be nice?' She questioned as she sat on a barrel next to him at the wheel. She wasn't really sure why she was suddenly so keen to be near him - not that she was, of course - but it just seemed better than sitting by herself in the cabin; especially when it was so warm and it was far too stuffy in there.

He hummed in response, not really feeling the need to actually say the word "what" to her.

'A bath. I've got a new nightgown, but I haven't had a bath since I was forced upon this ship.' She hissed before she bit her bottom lip.

'You want me to draw you a bath?' He retorted and she can't help but roll her eyes at the distaste in his voice.

'Not you personally. I would just appreciate one, that is all.' She murmured, suddenly feeling defeated because she was looking forward to it; she had built her hopes up thinking that she was finally going to feel clean and fresh again, and he was going to say no. She was going to be stuck in this filth until she got home; if she ever got home.

Maybe Jack sensed how she was feeling; maybe that was the reason he turned around and said, 'Fine.'

Before she could acknowledge what he meant, he turned away from her and shouted, 'Gibbs! Get the tub and take it to my cabin; fill it with water.'

Her eyes landed on the older man, and noted how he seem surprised by the request, but he moved down below to the hold to get the tub nonetheless.

'Thought you weren't going to do it?' She muttered and he just grinned at her. She gave him a smile before she stood from her seat on the barrel and dusted down her dress. But she didn't move to the cabin just yet, because his stare was enough to pin her in her place.

It wasn't until he gave her a wide smirk that she finally broke free, clearing her throat and turning around sharply to go back to the cabin. She dusted her dress down once again, just to distract herself and stop herself from turning around, because she could _feel _his gaze burning into her back.

It didn't take too long for the bathtub to be filled and when Gibbs poured the last bucket in, she gave him a warm smile.

'Thank you.'

'I wouldn't be too long. I heated the water up… but it's not that warm, and will go cool soon.' He informed before he retuned her smile and left the cabin.

Isabelle walked over to the door and made sure it was locked, before she stripped off her dress and undergarments that she finally managed to wash - though she had to do it herself; a first for her.

Biting her lips she stepped into the tub and almost winced because of the temperature. It wasn't freezing, but it wasn't the warmth she was expecting. But nonetheless, it was water and there was soap and it was going to get her clean.

She sank into the tub and as her body quickly adjusted to the temperature, she let out a sigh as she closed her eyes, letting her skin soften and the dirt she had accumulated soak in the water.

She didn't know how much time passed before she finally picked up the small bar of soap and the cloth that Gibbs had left her, and started to actually wash herself. But after that, she returned to relaxing in the bath, not moving, just laying there with her eyes closed. As she did, she started to hum the lullaby that her mother sang to her when she was a child and couldn't sleep.

She stopped herself short at the thought of her mother, because it was the first time since she was kidnapped that she thought on her parents. Sure, her main thought was always on Matthew and wondering what he was doing and how he was reacting, but she never once thought on her mother and father, and just what would be going through at her kidnapping.

Her mother and father were the only people she trusted in this world. And even she knew how wrong that was, because it should be her husband, not her parents.

Truthfully, they weren't that fond of Matthew Moran, finding him too reckless and unfaithful for their beloved daughter, but it was what Isabelle wanted, and they weren't going to protest against what she wanted. And he did have money; lots of it. Enough that Isabelle would be looked after and that's another reason they didn't say a word when Matthew came to them asking for Isabelle's hand in marriage.

Isabelle didn't know this of course, thinking that, because they were often together and how they acted around Matthew, that they adored him.

Her eyes snapped open and she's brought sharply back to reality. Her parents were missing her; looking everywhere for her, probably panicking and here she was, being friendly with the man that kidnapped her. _Too _friendly. She knew it. But no one had ever payed her that much attention before, not even Matthew when he was courting her, and it was a nice change. But she wasn't stupid. She knew she would just be nothing more than a conquest for him; see if he can bed the frigid rich lady and claim victory.

And the way she was acting, she wasn't exactly discouraging him. Not the way she should be. A part of her wanted to be chased, because she'd never been chased after in her life. She was always the one that needed to make Matthew see her again.

'You're a fool, Isabelle.' She hissed before she pulled herself from the tub, sucking in air through her teeth as the cool air hit her wet body. She wrapped the towel around herself before picking her dress and undergarments up off the floor and moved over to her place in the side cabin.

She dried herself with the towel, and with a grimace of disgust, she reclothed herself in her undergarments and dress. How people could live like this, she'll never know! She needed new clothes every time she had a bath; and she _definitely _needed new undergarments everyday. This way of life was disgusting and unclean.

Once she was dressed again, she unlocked the door and headed out to the deck, walking up to Jack, despite all the recent thoughts she had about him.

'Thank you. It was mostly relaxing.'

'Mostly?' He questioned with a raised eyebrow, and Isabelle cursed herself for her stupid mouth and her stupid openness to a man she didn't know!

She didn't reply however, having learnt her lesson, and she turned away after placing her hand on top of his for a brief seconds in thanks.

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

The noise from the deck distracted her from the book she was reading, because they didn't normally make that much noise. There was only ever the odd bark from Jack or Gibbs, but other than that they stayed silent, just doing their work.

But now, it was loud and noisy in a cheerful way; there was so much laughter and it had Isabelle staring at the door in confusion for about ten minutes before she plucked up enough courage to sit her book down, slide off the bed and walk over to the door.

She opened it just a crack, peeking out and when she saw the crew gathered in a circle, all of them sitting on barrels with a bottle of rum in their hands, she couldn't help herself, she pulled the door open completely before stepping out to the deck.

Someone from the crew noticed her and let out a cheerful, drunken shout before the whole crew joined in.

Normally the sight of drunks would repulse her, but the pleasant happy buzz that seemed to be emitting from them was enough to have her smiling and she walked over to stand beside Jack, who was sitting in such a position that everyone was pointing at him; looking at him.

'What's the occasion for such a party?' She questioned as she sat down on the barrel that Gibbs had moved over for her. She gave him a smile before she turned to Jack with a raised eyebrow. He didn't answer though, and just smirked at her, his eyes dancing with an emotion that Isabelle had never seen from him before.

'It's the captain's birthday today, Mrs. Moran!' Someone exclaimed, and Isabelle had a feeling it was the same man that had alerted the crew to her presence.

Her head turned back to Jack, her eyes widening with the news and she smiled kindly at him, 'Happy birthday, Captain Sparrow.'

His grin just widened before he raised his bottle of rum to his lips and took a gulp. He lowered it once more and balanced it on his knee.

'It's just another day. But the crew wanted to celebrate it…' He trailed off, raising the bottle to his lips once more and Isabelle just smiled.

'Do they normally need an excuse to drink?' She enquired and he looked at her for a second before barking out a laugh.

'No.' He admitted with another chuckle after his loud laughter finally stopped. Isabelle flushed slightly as she looked around the crew, but she didn't go as red as she thought she would when she realised that no one was paying attention to them; no one wondered why their captain was suddenly laughing loudly.

She chuckled along with him for a second before stopping when someone appeared beside her, a guitar in his hand.

'Come on, Captain. Play us a song.'

Isabelle looked between the guitar and Jack before she raised an eyebrow at him, 'You play?'

He nodded his head once before he turned to the man holding his guitar.

'Not today.'

The crew gave shouts of protest and Isabelle smiled at their determination to get their captain to play them a tune. She looked around the group of the crewmen before she turned back to Jack, her mind made up.

'So you tell me that you can play but you aren't going to show me?' She grinned at him and watched as he slowly returned it, his eyes turning back to the man with the guitar. He took it from him and brought it onto his lap.

'Fine. What song do you want, men?'

'"Jolly Sailor Bold"!'

'"A Pirate's Life for Me"!'

'Do you know "Wave Over Wave", Captain Sparrow?' Isabelle questioned and he smirked and started to strum on the strings of the guitar.

'_Me name's Able Rogers, a shareman am I, on a three-masted schooner from Twillingate Isle, I've been the world over, north, south, east, and west, but the middle of nowhere's where I like it best._' Isabelle sang as the familiar tune started to sound from the guitar. She gave a small, almost embarrassed smile as she realised what she was doing. She very rarely sang, only doing so when her father decided to sit at the grand-piano in her home and played a song. That was the only time she did it; no one else made her feel comfortable enough to do so.

And she had no idea why she was doing it now.

_'Where it's wave over wave, sea over bow, I'm as happy a man as the sea will allow, there's no other life for a sailor like me, but to sail the salt sea, boys, sail the sea, there's no other life but to sail the salt sea._' She sang the chorus a little louder and with a bit of a bigger smile upon her face, because it was her favourite part of the song.

It was the song her mother sang to her, because her father - Isabelle's grandfather - used to sing it to her.

She bowed her head when the guitar suddenly stopped and she felt Jack's eyes upon her. She looked up, looking into those deep brown eyes and she found it hard to look away. They continued to stare at each other until someone spoke up, asking her to continue because it was nice to hear her a nice voice instead of loud, drunken shouts.

So, they teared their gaze away and Jack started where he left off, and Isabelle started singing, all the while thinking that their little eye contact did _not _mean anything.

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_**So there we go! Like I said it's much shorter than the ones before, but like I said, I'm really proud I managed to write 100 words, let alone 2000!**_

_**Hope you enjoyed it, and hope you review!**_

_**'Til the next time, my lovelies! **_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


	10. Chapter X

**_Kinda short chapter ahead... but it's important. So either way I hope you enjoy it! _**

**_Thank you all for your reviews, it really means a lot to me! :D_**

**_Now, on with the chapter!_**

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_~But since I'm feeling kinda lonely,  
My defences are low,  
Why don't we give it a shot?  
Get ready to go?  
I'm looking for anonymous and fleeting satisfaction,  
I wanna tell my daddy I'll be missing in action.~_

_Meat Loaf & Cher - Dead Ringer for Love._

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**Chapter X.**

Isabelle wasn't sure what changed over the next few days, she just knew that something _had _changed. Mainly because ever since that little birthday party on the deck of the ship, she no longer felt like a prisoner. The attitude of the crew seemed to change, she was no longer just the posh, rich woman they kidnapped for money; she was the woman who sang to them and didn't look down her nose at them.

It seemed that was the reason they didn't like her at first, because they just assumed that she would be repulsed by them - and in a way she still was - but she had to be honest that she longer thought that every single time she saw them. To her they were just people; after this long, that's all she could see now.

She had heard several of the crew members' stories, and from what they'd told her, none of them picked the piracy life. Some of them were ex-Naval officers, such as Gibbs, who were eventually dismissed form their duties and had no other way of living. Some had families to support and the time away was worth it if it meant feeding their wives and babes. Then there was those who had lost everything; who had everything precious in life and it was taken away from them in a cruel twist of fate.

She didn't know why she ever thought they were the worst. Why they were called thieves when people like _her _had taken away so much from them. And for what? For extra stables and the ability to change bedrooms on a whim?

But there was still one person who's story she didn't know; the one she was the most curious about.

'So, what is your story, Captain Sparrow?' Isabelle questioned as soon as she stepped next to him at the helm. His turned his head to regard her with a raised eyebrow.

'What do you mean?' He replied and she smiled softly as she sat down on the nearest barrel.

'Your story on how you became a pirate. I've been learning the rest of the crew's and they're all tragic; forced into a lawless life because of law itself. I want to know what got you to be the captain of _The Black Pearl_.'

'It's not that interesting. Trust me.' He stated and she knew straight away that she didn't believe him; didn't see how a man as fascinating as him, couldn't have an interesting story.

'I don't believe that for a second, Captain Sparrow, and I know you don't either.' She insisted, but he still didn't start to tell her his story. She bit her lip and looked around herself for a moment, before deciding something that she may - probably - end up regretting. 'If you tell me how you became a pirate… I'll tell you my story. Answer any questions you have; and I know you have them. I've seen them in your eyes.' She wagered, watching as an almost dangerous smirk grew on his face.

Oh yes, she was going to regret ever offering that.

'But first,' she continued, hoping to distract him from whatever wicked thoughts that were running through his mind. 'Tell me your story.'

He gave a small huff before looping a piece of rope around one of the spokes on the wheel, tightening it so it kept steering the ship in the one direction. He moved over and sat down on the barrel beside her. He took a moment before starting, almost as if he was arranging his thoughts; what to say and what to avoid.

'I was born to a pirate. Captain Teague's his name; Teague Sparrow… he had an important job protecting this book… the set of rules on being a pirate.'

'There are rules on being a pirate?' Isabelle jumped in, cutting him off because that was the strangest thing she ever heard. She thought pirates lived lawless lives; doing what they want, when they want. To find out that they had created their own set of rules to abide by was a little… strange.

'Aye.' He answered, not elaborating on what they are or why they are there or how the came to be like what Isabelle wanted him to, instead he continued with her first request; _his _story. 'I actually ended up breaking one of the rules; to be honest I can't remember what one,' he admitted with a small smirk and Isabelle instantly knew that he was lying. He remembered very clearly what rule he broke, he just wasn't going to admit it. 'So, I was cast out of my home. Never wanted to be a pirate anyway, so I joined the East India Trading Company. Made a name for myself; made my way through the ranks and became captain of my own ship; _The Wicked Wench_. She was incredible. '

A warm smile broke onto his face and Isabelle found her lips tugging into one to match it.

'The work wasn't too bad, but what changed was when they asked me to transport slaves. I couldn't do it, so I released them halfway into the journey, on a little island that couldn't be found unless you knew where it was. I was captured by them not long after that, thrown in prison, branded a pirate and waiting to be executed. But my boss, Culter Beckett decided on a little bit of more torture. He set my ship on fire, and I had to watch her burn and sink.' Jack admitted, his voice laden with a mixture of his resentment for Beckett and his sadness of having watched his ship burn.

'I broke free, though, swam out to try and save her - as stupid as that sounds. But I ended up getting trapped under the water and nearly drowned. I think I did actually.'

'Then… how?' Isabelle questioned as she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, because he was certainly alive and was _not _a ghost. She knew there were things out there; witches and the suchlike, but she didn't think anyone could bring people back from the dead.

'Made a deal with Davy Jones.' He muttered and he heard someone gasp at the mention of him, because you weren't supposed to on a ship at sea. Apparently. Jack rolled his eyes. 'Oh shut it, I killed him years ago.'

Isabelle stared at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

'Okay, long story short. I made a deal with Jones, got my ship raised, renamed her _The Black Pearl_, got a crew, my first mate led a mutiny and cast me on a island. Got off the island, spent near enough ten years trying to get her back, got her back, shot the bastard, then had my debt with Jones to settle. Ended up getting sent to his Locker with help of the governor's daughter of Port Royal, got brought back from the Locker, started a war against the EITC, killed Jones to save a whelp and his missy, he became the new captain of _The Flying Dutchman _and I ended up killing Beckett. Simple.'

She just continued to stare at him, trying to comprehend everything he had just said; trying to follow it and figure it out. But despite that, there was one thing she still didn't understand.

'You're trying to tell me you don't find that _interesting_?' She questioned, her voice dripping with her astonishment. 'You've been through all of that, and you have the nerve to say that your story isn't interesting?'

She shook her head with a small scoff, unable to understand how he didn't think his life was interesting. Banished by his family, lived on the straight and narrow until he disobeyed for refusing to transport slaves; made a deal with Davy Jones, lost and then recovered his beloved ship, killing the man that stole it, before killing Jones himself and the man that destroyed his life to begin with; Beckett. How was that _not _interesting. Isabelle would've given most of her possessions for a life half as exciting as his.

He shrugged, letting her know that he still couldn't see the excitement from it, but maybe that was just because he had to live through it. The years without the _Pearl_, the years obsessed with Barbossa, then finally getting her back just have her taken by the Kraken; him with it. Months in the Locker, coming back to fight the EITC in their pathetic war against piracy. Going back to Shipwreck Cove; picking Elizabeth as King; losing Will… all of it was too much and too tiring.

'It sounds interesting and fun, but it was horrible to live through, love. Trust me.' He muttered and she looked away from him then, looking down at her hands.

'I know that feeling.' She informed softly, not looking up from her hands; her nails were usually perfectly manicured, but now they were cracked and broken. Her hands dirty again despite the fact she had bathed recently. 'Everyone thinks your life is perfect and you know it's far from it, and you just can't convince them otherwise, because they've gotten this idea in their head and it won't budge, no matter what information you give them.'

'So, your turn, love. What's your story?'

'I was eighteen when I met Matthew… I caught his eye straight away and he started to court me. But it was strange.' She took a deep breath in, biting her lips and swallowing hard, trying to arrange her thoughts. 'My friends were being courted as well, and their man was always trying to spend time with them. Matthew was different… he liked spending time with me, but he didn't plan the next visit for weeks. I normally had to pressure him into seeing me sooner, and after being with him for so long, I realise that was his plan; to make me needy… make me beg.'

She swallowed again.

'I loved him, and in a way I still do, but I am not _in _love with him; there's a big difference, isn't there?' She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, turning away from him and looking out on to the deck, watching the crew carry out their orders, non of them were even watching Isabelle and Jack talk. 'Maybe a year after we married it happened. I just realised that he wasn't the man he was before; that he was never the man I thought he was. And since then, I've - rather foolishly - been making up for this lack of love with dresses, and redecorating the house, and just spending his money; overcompensating.'

A smile broke onto her face as she turned back to Jack, but it didn't reach her eyes, for they were brimming with tears. But she was determined to not let them spill.

'I was never the one for parties. I was never the one to spend money on frivolous things. I can't look in the mirror and be pleased with the person looking back at me anymore; I can't be proud of what I see. I try helping the lower classes but instead of being praised for it, I get admonished. That's why I'm trying to get Ariana to marry someone for love; not propriety or to raise her family's status. I know what it's like to do "the right thing:, and it's never pleasant. I do not want her to have that life.'

She locked eyes with him, her brown eyes looking into his, but when she noticed the look in his eyes, she was immediately curious.

'What?'

'Look, it's all fair and nice to be looking out for your friend and wanting her to be happy, but start thinking about yourself. If I've learnt anything from this life, it's that living the life you want to live is the most important thing. Not what people think you should live, or whether you've always lived that way. It's good to be selfish.'

She smiled softly at him, and before she knew what she was doing, she was leaning closer to him, inching towards him until her lips brushed up against his lightly. When he didn't pull away, she pressed them more firmly and let her eyes flutter shut.

It lasted for only a brief moment because the second the thought that she hadn't kissed Matthew for this long in such a long time, she had to pull away.

Her eyes widened the second she realised what she had done, and she immediately shot up from her barrel, her hands clamping onto her dress' skirt. She shook her head from side to side before she looked back at Jack.

'I did not do that. That did not happen. You forget it!' She hissed before she turned on her heel and headed straight for the cabin. She walked into the side cabin and threw herself onto the bed. She buried her face in the pillow and allowed it to smother the loud scream that erupted from her.

She rolled over the minute she was finished and threw her arm over her face.

'You're an idiot, Isabelle.' She muttered as she removed her arm and looked up to the ceiling of the cabin. Her eyes traced the wood as she worried at her lower lip to stop herself from screaming again, because someone would hear her this time. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes tightly, lines appearing at the corner of her eyes at how tight she was shutting them.

'Such an idiot.'

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_**Oooh... what d'you think? Let me know in a review!**_

_**Until next time my loves!**_

_**~Charlotte.x**_


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